Chapter 2: Shifting Parameters

Present Day: Voyager

"It's like someone stuck a pole up her ass and twisted it three times before asking any of us how high they should stick it up there," B'Elanna raged before she attacked Neelix's homemade Tera Nut Souffle with a knife that wasn't quite as blunt as Harry would have liked for it to have been.

"Look, she's been through a lot," he argued.

"She has been through a lot?!" B'Elanna all but shouted, turning her knife on Harry in an accusatory manner. "She was living the good life on some rotten Sto-vo-kor of a planet. What about us, eh? We risked the whole goddamn ship for her, and we hardly ever got a 'thank you'."

"Well," Harry began, shifting his chair backwards a couple of inches. "She did specifically order us to not contact the Vidiians , and -"

"Are you serious, Starfleet?" B'Elanna cut in, slamming the knife down on the table with a force that would surely leave a noticeable dent. Harry shifted uncomfortably in his chair, she hadn't called him Starfleet in a long time.

"I'm not saying we were wrong," he put up his hands in defence. "I'm just saying that I can see how she'd be less than pleased with us at the moment."

"We put our lives on the line for her!"

"And I'm sure she appreciates it," he countered.

A string of unintelligible, but possibly highly unflattering, Klingon words slipped from the young engineer's mouth. Harry just stared, unsure of how to respond to what he couldn't fully comprehend.

When she was done she only huffed, her shattered rage turned inwards, and to Harry's relief she resumed her prior attack on the soufflé instead of continuing to wound him with words he felt he really had done nothing to deserve.

"Anything the matter?" a familiar voice cut in from behind.

"No, commander," Harry quickly turned to his superior, preventing B'Elanna from emptying her mouth in time to refill it with whatever stream of unbecoming Klingon words she could further assault his ears with. "We're fine."

Chakotay studied them through suspicious slits, then took a seat opposite the engineer and the young ensign, unconvinced.

"Anything on your mind, Lieutenant?" he turned to B'Elanna.

"As a matter of fact," she began, swallowing down the last of her food. "The captain's been a complete pain in the ass ever since we saved you two from a lifetime of isolation. You'd think she'd be a little more grateful you're not still stuck on that rock. But no, instead she just assigned Vorik to scrubbing the plasma conduits on deck three this morning, after he accidently blew out a gel-pack that gave her precious little replicator some performance issues."

Harry choked on his coffee. Subtle euphemisms had never been B'Elanna's strong suit when she got like this. Frankness was how she rolled. It intimidated the hell out of him, and honestly, he would actually prefer scrubbing the plasma conduits on deck three himself right about now, anything from being witness to this train wreck of a conversation.

"Torres!" Chakotay boomed.

Oh, she was in for it now.

Harry pushed his chair back another couple of inches; where the hell was Tom when you needed a clean escape?

"Don't you Torres me, Chakotay" she pointed a finger at him. "I've got a warp core to run, and she's put one of mine on a completely pointless detail-."

"She is the captain, and she can do whatever she damn well pleases," Chakotay responded.

"Well, maybe she should resume pleasing her precious commander then, since she sure as hell isn't doing this ship and its crew any favours."

Rage detonated in Chakotay's eyes, and Harry's jaw all but dropped to the floor. No, no, no, she had not just said that; he had not just heard that.

"B'Elanna," Chakotay began, his voice cold as ice; the entire mess hall silent, every single crew member doing his or her damnest to pretend not to listen in on the escalation that was about to occur. "You're relieved of duty effective immediately."

"Excuse me?" she gaped.

"And confined to quarters until further notice," he swallowed dangerously, never breaking eye contact. "Get out of my sight!"

"Chakotay!" she exclaimed.

"NOW!"

B'Elanna was wise enough to know when she'd crossed a line; Harry could see the instant regret swim in her eyes as she reined the temperamental Klingon half of her personality back inside.

Too late now.

She stood, and with her head held high marched straight out of the mess hall.

Harry blinked several times before he dared to move again, the commander remained seated beside him. The fight visibly draining out of him, while low whispers started up all around them again.

"I'm sorry you had to see that, Harry," he spoke, his forehead dropping to his fist, elbow on the table.

"Don't worry about it, sir," he scrapped his throat, finding his voice. "She was completely out of line."

"Was she?"

"Yes, sir."

Chakotay silently regarded him for a moment.

"What do you really think, Harry?"

What did he really think? Nobody had ever asked him such a question before, not when it came to command decisions like these. He was only a second year Starfleet ensign after all; although he supposed no other ensign in the history of Starfleet outside of Voyager had been through quite as much as he had been. He more than once wondered when he'd finally be promoted to Lieutenant. Soon, he hoped. Although, now probably wasn't the right time to bring up such a request. Both the captain and the commander hadn't appeared to be in a receptive mood as of late.

"Off the record, sir?"

The commander nodded.

"I think that, for whatever reason, the captain might be having some difficulties readjusting to life on Voyager," he hesitated, speaking out loud what the entire crew had been thinking. "Evidenced by her somewhat extreme punishment of Vorik this morning," he paused. "That, and the fact she hasn't butted heads with B'Elanna once since they first met."

Chakotay sighed.

"But that doesn't mean B'Elanna didn't cross a line just now," he offered. "In fact, in your place, I'd probably have taken away her holodeck privileges on top of confining her to quarters. You might have come down on her too easy, sir."

The commander chuckled, and stood.

"You're a good man, Harry," he slapped him on the back. "Thank you for your honesty."

Harry smiled, oddly flattered by the older man's rare show of approval.

"Thank you, sir."

Now about that promotion, his mind nudged him, but the commander had already gone, and as Harry turned around to locate him, he only just caught the mess hall doors close definitively behind his commanding officer's retreating figure.

Damnit, the young ensign sighed and shook his head.

Maybe, some day, he'd scrounge up enough courage to ask for that promotion.

Some day.

=/\=

New Earth: Two weeks prior to Voyager's return

"They're all coming along quite nicely," she beamed, more than a little proud of the idyllic little garden they'd put together in the past week. Some of the seedlings were already starting to sprout above ground, and for some reason seemed to be growing much faster than they ought to. Something in the ground, maybe, or the atmosphere? Something worth researching for sure the analyst inside her marvelled. She would take some readings later, learn the actually lay of whatever lay under the land.

"Very," Chakotay said, as he came up behind her. His arms involuntarily wound around her waist, drawing her closer to him on an impulse.

"Very nicely," he whispered in her ear.

She supressed a shiver.

"Your distracting me won't actually work, you know?" she said, turning herself around in his arms, and reaching up to tap his nose with the tip of a dirty index finger. He wiggled his nose under her touch, and slipped a hand underneath her loose fitting sweater in response, a wicked twinkle appearing in his eyes.

"You have no idea to what lengths I'm willing to go," he said, softly trailing his lips down her neck, pressing light, mind numbing kisses to flushed skin, right where her collarbone poked through the fabric.

A throaty moan slipped from her lips, and her eyes fluttered closed. This felt far too good; too dangerously satisfying to deny.

The past week had been filled with work, and some such distractions. Initially, they'd vowed not to move forward too quickly, to make sure that their minds would have ample time to catch up to the particulars of their hormone packed emotions, which far too often seemed to be in favour of disregarding any of the problematic consequences their impulsive actions might lead to in the long run. But as it turned out the promise itself had been much too idealistic, and had proven to be an outright disaster in practice. Sure, during the day they easily found ways to keep their minds occupied. He'd help her with the garden in the morning, and would then disappear into the woods right after lunch. She suspected he was working on a secret project of his own, but by the time he'd get back, her interest in whatever secrets he was hiding behind the trees had waned, to be replaced by an insatiable hunger as soon as his fingers came within an inch of her skin.

Yesterday evening she'd discovered a particularly sensitive spot behind his left ear. In turn, he'd found the one spot that made her knees grow weak, right where her collarbone dipped on an inhale, and in that manner their nights had been solely dedicated to uncovering unexplored paths and breaking established parameters. Parameters they would reset again come morning; never quite crossing that one line that they both longed to cross with reckless abandon.

His lips brushed against her temple, his breath hot on her ear as he whispered,

"I'm really sick and tired of resetting these damned parameters every morning."

A ball of warm desire dropped firmly in the pit of her stomach, blotting out any and all additional thoughts she might have had.

"Me too," she barely managed.

He kissed her hard, sliding his hand further up her chest where his fingertips grazed over the swell of her breast. Her eyes rolled back in her skull, her skin ablaze, thoughts a mess, and she could only breathe out a weak hum of approval as his fingers slid underneath her bra. A whimper tore from her lips, and she instinctively pushed herself up against his hand, tired of pretending she didn't want more.

"More," she choked, and his lips slowly curved against hers.

How could she have been stupid enough to ever have suggested such a thing as parameters with all of eternity ahead of them? They were never going to get off this rock; in what world had celibacy ever turned out to be a good idea?

Wasting no time, he pulled her sweater over her head, unclasped her bra and dropped both items to the ground before frantically starting on her pants.

She vehemently matched him in speed and fluidity, tugging off his shirt, unbuckling his belt, divesting him of his clothes every bit as fast as he had been stripping the layers off of her body.

For a moment his assertiveness took her by surprise; on Voyager he'd rarely ever shown such abrasiveness. He'd seldom, if ever, disobeyed orders and had always made himself out to be the obedient type. Imparting, on her, impressions of a man who would stand behind her every choice without many questions in any given situation, which in turn, had made her wonder how someone so attuned to following orders had ever become a rebel leader of a band of glorified misfits in the first place.

She was starting to understand.

While fevered kisses on flushed skin continued to weaken her limbs, now naked, gravity relentlessly pulled them down, and as they tumbled to the ground he quickly rolled himself on top of her, pining her hands above her head before she had the chance to compete with his calculated intentions; he swiftly reached between them and then watched her gasp and buck beneath him as two fingers slid between slick folds. He smiled, a greedy smile.

She inhaled sharply, her head lulling to the side. Oh, he was good, and as her mind continued to beg for more, she berated herself for wasting an entire week to even get to this point. His fingers found a steady rhythm, sliding in and out. Her thoughts fused together and fizzled out as his vigorous administrations unearthed sensations she hadn't felt in years.

His lips claimed hers on a moan, sucking and licking more purposefully now. She arched her back in response, pressing her breasts closer to his chest while a desire for release started to build where his fingers briefly grazed against a particularly sensitive part.

"Higher," she whispered against his lips, balancing on the edge of sanity. He ignored her pleas, continuing at an agonizingly slow pace, and she realized this was exactly where he wanted her. Aroused and begging, writhing beneath him, exerting control over when and how she was to shatter under his touch, if at all.

She pulled back slowly and looked him in the eye, his lids drooping heavily, noticeably drunk on the same wave of lust as she, his control visibly slipping. She bit hard on her lower lip, and pressed herself further into him, felt his length pulse and twist alongside her inner thigh. He groaned, his pace turning sloppy, his fingers slipping in and out of her at irregular intervals, pushing for or drawing out her release for as long as both could stand.

It was more than she could bear; the swiftness of their actions, moving much too fast for her mind to completely comprehend. She needed more control. Now.

She hooked one leg behind his, and twisted. His eyes widened in surprise when in one shift motion she turned the tables on him. As his back hit the ground with a thud his hands automatically slipped out of her to land on her hips, minimizing impact velocity. She wasted no time.

"What the–" he cried out, but his words turned into a single drawn out moan as she moved over and down onto him, giving him no time to adjust to the reversed situation. Pushing down he slipped further inside of her, and with effort she swallowed a moan of her own as her walls first tightened and then relaxed around him fully. She bit her lip, determined to hold on for as long as possible, arching her back, head dropping back, visibly fighting for control. This felt far too good, and it had been far, far too long. If he started moving under her now she was sure it wouldn't take much for him to gain the upper hand again.

His eyes rolled shut, adjusting to the sudden feel of her around him; surely he hadn't counted on them moving this fast either, but after a few moments he nodded on a smirk, and opened his eyes.

"Uncalled for," his voice cracked, a twinkle in his eyes. "Just couldn't wait your turn, eh?" he shook his head in mock disapproval.

"Now, where would be the fun in that?" she grinned.

He chuckled.

"Is that a challenge?"

"I haven't the –" she began, but before she could finish the sentence, his hands on her hips forced her down harder, shooting renewed sensations up her spine. He slid deeper, and she lost her balance, dropping forward. She braced one hand on the ground next to his head and let out a surprised gasp.

"Two can play at this, Kathryn," he huskily whispered in her ear.

With effort she pushed herself up, locked eyes with the man who had gained back the upper hand much faster than she thought he would. But before she could gather her wits, prepare a counter attack or retaliate, one of his hands whispered past her spine, and came down hard on her lower back. Quite possessively he started to move inside of her, drawing out and slamming back into her with determined deliberation, quite effectively obliterating any and all thoughts she might have had of retaliation.


A/N: OK, I seriously enjoyed writing the start of this chapter from Harry's point of view, he's so damn cute. And man B'Elanna is such an amazing character to write for as well! I seriously am enjoying all of these characters so much! The diversity is AMAZING.

I hope you enjoyed this as much as I've enjoyed reading your thoughts on the previous chapter. It's so incredibly appreciated! 3 This fandom is awesome.

Crossposted to AO3